Simmering Pieces
Cubes of ice in hot tea
melting, molding, moving
ballerinas of uncertain motion
toes twirling in passion
sluggish thunder of words
Cubes of ice in hot tea
molten, shaped by imagination
manufactured souls with no control
reflections heaved and hurled
gentle petals of words propelled
Cubes of ice in hot tea
no stillness here, musings flow
shadows deepen, explosion ignites
wind inhaled and poetry expelled
earth moving in spiritual ways
Cubes of ice in hot tea
epiphanies leaping under drunken skies
stripped thoughts bared and stroked
magenta wine flowing adrift in words
door of creativity opens, I enter in.
a piece makes a move
a piece makes a move and the opponent wails
a piece makes a move and the opponent fails
a piece makes a move to the opponent's side
a piece makes a move and the opponent cried
a piece makes a move to take the win
a piece makes a move to get drunk on gin
a piece makes a move to clear the board
a piece makes a move and becomes bored
a piece makes a move to win the lady
a piece makes a move to become shady
a piece makes a move to get a home
a piece makes a move to roam
a piece makes a move to continue on
a piece makes a move to become a pawn
a piece makes a move to live life
a piece makes a move to be killed by a knife
Eyes and Artful Highs
There are no do-overs in this game.
No matter how many times you ask yourself,
"When did this become so serious?"
You realize it happened when you started to run out of fingers and toes to account for every year that you've been alive.
You didn't do anything except look.
You taste salt in your mouth against your dry tongue; and your eyes begin to sting as you clench your teeth so hard you think they'll crack. They don't. But the awkward squeaks and jagged crunch-rumble from the grinding has you thinking they have.All you can do now is wait.